


Wrap Me In Your Arms

by batmanmonroe



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 08:52:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3482069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/batmanmonroe/pseuds/batmanmonroe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three times Miles was there to comfort Bass, and one time he wasn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrap Me In Your Arms

Sand whipped through the air, slashing at what little skin left exposed by body armor and fatigues. Only the thunder of bullets pierced the howling of the wind. They splattered the deadly golden air with the ruby red of his companions and enemies alike. Bodies were dropping all around him, but Bass couldn’t tell whether they were friend or foe. All he could do was keep shooting and hope he hit the enemy. He couldn’t see Miles, couldn’t reach him, couldn’t make sure he was safe--

“Hey.” Against all logic, a voice pierced the gale. “Hey, Bass. It’s okay.”

Bass woke with a start, gasping for breath as Iraq gave way to a darkened bedroom in Indiana. His bare chest heaved, glistening with sweat under the dark, worried gaze of the man beside him.

“Another nightmare?” Miles asked him. Bass swallowed hard, but his voice was stuck in his throat. He nodded hard. Miles shifted under the covers and pulled the other man into his embrace. “It’s okay,” he whispered into Bass’s curls. “It’s all right. It’s over. We’re home. You’re safe.”

Bass clung to the man he loved, letting his breath return to normal and his body stop shaking. In the shelter of Miles’ arms, Bass fell back into a much more peaceful sleep.

\--

This had once been a busy highway. Now only the skeletons of cars and drivers populated the stretch of blood-soaked pavement. Both Miles and Bass had their forearms over their noses to block out the scent of decay. Some had died of starvation en route to ensuring their families were okay, bandits had killed some for food. And some….

“That’s just not right.” Bass’s voice trembled as he looked down at a corpse riddled with human teeth marks. “I know… everyone’s starving. But that… that just….” His stomach turned with more violence every second he looked at the cannibalized body. He’d seen death before, but not like this. This was inhuman.

Bass fell to his knees, retching. He wasn’t cut out for this new world, where food was so scarce that people were literally eating each other to stay alive. Who would hve guessed that peoples’ sanity and humanity revolved around the lights?

Miles broad hand on his back snapped Bass out of it. It rubbed slow circles over his spine until Bass’s dry heaving stopped. “We’re not gonna end up like that.”

“No one should end up like that,” Bass said weakly.

“I know,” Miles sighed. “But I’ll die before I let you end up like that.” He held out a hand, and Bass got back to his feet, wobbling like a newborn colt. Bass twisted his hands in Miles’ shirt, relishing the feeling of safety he couldn’t get anywhere else. After a moment, Bass leaned up for a kiss, but Miles pulled back.

“Don’t look at me like that. You smell like puke.” A small smile twisted Miles lips, but he did kiss the top of Bass’s head. “Come on. Let’s go find Ben.”

\--

Things had settled down. Stability had returned to the Eastern Seaboard, surrounding Miles and Bass in opulence. Home was a manor full of soldiers and servants at their beck and call. Crystal decanters of whiskey shone on their desks, and silken sheets surrounded their bed. Anyone would have killed for that life. Hell, they had.

President Monroe stood stock still, even though he was half-bent over his mahogany desk. General Matheson’s thick, calloused fingers had frozen on the buttons of his coat. Bass’s electric blue eyes stayed fixed on the locked door. “Bass?” Miles asked, frowning. “You all right, babe?”

“I don’t know,” Bass admitted. “I heard something. Outside. It sounded like a gunshot.”

“I didn’t hear anything,” Miles replied, his brow furrowing. “You sure it wasn’t… you know….” He trailed off, not wanting to say it. Bass’s mental health had suffered since they’d carved this Republic out for themselves. He’d been moody and distant at best, and at worst, violent, erratic, and paranoid. And if he was hearing shots that weren’t happening, well… it wouldn’t be the first time.

“They said something. Something about ‘getting Monroe.’” Bass’s voice was cold and hard, and his body was shaking. “Miles, they’re coming after us. They’re going to tear apart everything we’ve built.”

Miles pulled Bass upright, sheltering him in his arms. “You’re hearing things again,” he murmured, trying his best to do what had always worked up until now. “No one’s out there. Just the guards. Lots of guards. No one’s gonna betray us. You’re safe. You’re with me.” The anger went out of Bass, and he sagged against Miles’ chest with a choked little sob. Miles kissed his hair again, but he was frowning too. How could he keep him safe when his greatest enemy was inside his head? And more importantly, how could he keep their people safe from Bass’s downward spiral?

He could only see one solution.

\--

Thunder rattled the tiny trailer, jolting Bass awake. A soft groan sounded from the mass of scratchy sheets beside him, and he tried to still his breathing. In his dream blood and limbs of the people he’d cared about had rained down on him- Emma, Shelly, Jeremy. All the while, Miles pumped shot after shot into his body. As the gun roared, he insisted that they were still brothers and that would never change. The lies hurt more than the bullets ripping into him.

Did Miles still care for him? If he did, why had he tried to kill him so many times? If he didn’t, why wouldn’t he have let Tom kill him? Unless he wanted to do it himself? But then, he would have come back by now. He would have put Bass out of his misery, instead of letting him rot in a brothel getting beat half to death. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if one of them bashed his face in.

He slumped against the pillow, trying to still his breathing and not wake the girl lying beside him. It didn’t work. She opened bleary eyes and mumbled, “go back to sleep, Jimmy.”

But he couldn’t. Not when uncertainties whirled around his head like fists in the ring. Not when he would never know where he actually stood with the man he loved.

Not when Miles would never be there to keep him safe.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this Tumblr post](http://presidentbassmonroe.tumblr.com/post/111844749747/justxpunzie-i-just-want-you-to). Because I am still getting all the feels over this ship and it pains me.


End file.
